


Submission

by AngeNoir



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek has a lot of baggage, Dubcon Kissing, Dubious Ethics, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mildly Dubious Consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-08
Updated: 2013-07-08
Packaged: 2017-12-18 03:57:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/875348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngeNoir/pseuds/AngeNoir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott can order Derek around. Yeah, who knew? Stiles thinks it's hilarious, and Scott has to admit it can make his life a lot easier.</p>
<p>At least until he finds Derek having a panic attack in the woods.</p>
<p>
  <i>Written for a prompt found on the precursor to the Teen Wolf promptmeme on livejournal.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Submission

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a [prompt](http://thecivilunrest.livejournal.com/13653.html?thread=143445#t143445) found on the precursor the Teen Wolf promptmeme on livejournal. It's a little cleaned up, and I think I caught all the places where I mixed my verb tenses, plus elaborated in a few places to try and make my intention clear.

Scott notices it almost from the beginning. Of course he does; he's not as oblivious as most people think, so when he had lost his temper with Derek and snarled out, "Forget it! We're not killing him, got it?" Derek's eyes - which had been starting to glow - had faded and his chin had jerked up even as he stopped arguing.  
  
It starts with little things. Scott losing his temper and telling Derek to just  _shut up_  and Derek shutting up; Scott snapping out that they weren't going to go with  _that_  plan, that was a _stupid_  plan,  _this  is what we're going to do_ and Derek just... acquiesces. Then it becomes bigger things, Scott realizing he can _do_ this, he can see Derek walking down the street and say  _hey, I'm thirsty, get me something to drink_ , and Derek will hunch his shoulders but  _do_  it. It becomes a game, one that Peter sees and smirks at, one that Stiles starts to pick up on and is gleefully following. Derek just winds himself tighter and tighter, becomes more and more rigid, which makes it all the funnier to watch.  
  
Then, one day, Scott is trying to defuse another bad scenario, trying to make it right, and Derek is not helping.  
  
"Derek,  _back off_ , okay? Go  _away;_  you're just making it worse."  
  
And Derek - Derek looks stricken, terrified, for all of one second before his face goes granite-still again, only his eyes showing his pain, and he snarls out something about useless betas and storms off, leaving Scott to try and calm Boyd and Cora down.  
  
Once he's free, he follows Derek, tracking the older male through the woods to find him at a small pond.  
  
There's evidence, here, that it used to be more than just a pond. A frayed rope hangs from a tree; a tire, old and worn, lies beneath the rope. Derek is standing, staring out over the water, chest heaving, limbs trembling, and Scott takes a deep breath. Either this will work out, or it will backfire horribly.  
  
Walking up to Derek, he grips the back of Derek's neck, squeezing tightly. So far so good - Derek would have heard him come, would have heard him approach, and yet still stayed still and let Scott do this. So he holds onto the soft skin of Derek's neck and murmurs, "Settle down. Deep breaths."  
  
Because Scott's seen panic attacks before, in Stiles. This isn't new.  
  
Derek's breath stutters, but he tries, he's obviously trying, and it makes something twist in Scott's chest as Derek fights his body to obey Scott's commands. Finally, not sure what to do, he presses down, forcing Derek to his knees.  
  
And Derek - growling, terrifying Derek, who is far more muscled than Scott - drops like a stone and rests his forehead against Scott's knee, shoulders jerking as he struggles to take in air.  
  
Scott swallows. It's - it's going too far, more than he wanted it to, and yeah, it was fun in the beginning, but Derek is - Derek is crying, silent tears making the material of Scott's jeans damp from where Derek's leaning against Scott's leg. Scott feels the lowest of the low, taking advantage of whatever-this-was when so clearly Derek has problems with it.  
  
"Jesus, Derek," he says quietly, voice shaking. "Jesus."

Derek lets out a wild laugh, bitter and broken, and before Scott can think he's got his hand against Derek's neck again, murmuring another order. "Derek, I want you to take the biggest breath you can and hold it, counting to five, and then let it out, and repeat it as many times as you need to."  
  
Scott feels the inhalation, the expansion of Derek's ribs against his calf, and he shudders at the intimacy. He is - he's hard, he's enjoying this, and he never knew how perverted he must be, to like something like this. Valiantly, he tries to ignore it to instead scratch fingernails gently against the base of Derek's neck. "Good boy," he whispers when Derek does it and -  
  
\- and Derek breathes roughly, and then tension disappears from his frame. The panic attack has ended, or those words had ended it, Scott doesn't know which. In any case, that's not the issue here. Taking a deep breath himself, Scott murmurs, "Derek, talk to me. What's going on?"  
  
Derek curls closer to Scott's leg, not looking up, but with his werewolf hearing Scott can hear his hoarse mumble, the words that fall unwillingly from Derek's lips. "There's a reason I have - had - blue eyes," he whispers in reply to Scott's question. "I was  _never_  supposed to be an Alpha. I'm fucking it up and I know it and Peter is waiting to take it away from me by killing me - or waiting for Cora to take it away forcefully, I don't know which. I can't do this anymore. I can't - you order me around and I can't keep myself from disobeying, I need to obey, Scott, I'm sorry, I just  _can't_  anymore, I can't be as good as you, I can't do it because they are going to die if someone doesn't protect them - "  
  
"Fuck, Derek, if that's you protecting me, I don't want to see what it's like when you're trying to hurt them," Scott says, involuntarily, furious with Derek's half-assed attempts and justifications.  
  
Derek flinches. "I know," he whispers, and falls silent.  
  
They stand there, until Scott feels like he has a better grip on the situation (and his inappropriate hard-on, come _on,_ what even is that?) and tugs lightly on the short hair at the base of Derek's skull. "Come on," he whispers. "Get up."  
  
Slowly, Derek stands back up and he looks - young, for all that he's at least six or seven years older than Scott. Scott has an inexplicable urge to protect him, an urge that has nothing to do with his human mind and everything to do with the wolf living inside of him.  
  
"Explain what you mean about the eyes," he says instead. "And why you keep obeying me."  
  
Derek swallows, but he seems to have regained his equilibrium, because he stands upright, like a soldier at attention, and responds in a clipped voice still wrecked by tears and fear, "A blue-eyed wolf is the omega of the pack. They obey the alpha, and betas. They never start a pack on their own. They are more... human. An omega who becomes alpha is an abomination."  
  
Something about the way Derek says that makes Scott think he's parroting memorized words, but Scott still doesn't understand. So he tries something that he probably shouldn't.  
  
"So if I gave you an order, you'd have to obey it? Even if you hate it?"  
  
A shudder runs through Derek's frame, but he whispers, "Yes."  
  
Scott licks his lips and finally gathers up enough courage to croak, "Kiss me."

And Derek takes two steps forward, hands going to cradle Scott's jaw, lips slanted over Scott's as teeth and tongue running over Scott's lips. Scott's so surprised that he just stands there a moment before he pulls back, gasps out, "Wait - wait!"  
  
Immediately, Derek stops, chest heaving, eyes panicked and horrified. "I'm sorry," he says weakly. "I'm sorry. You said - you _said_." His voice cracks and he stops speaking, heaves in a deep breath. " _You said_ ," he whispers again.  
  
But Scott isn't upset about that. He's worried - he's worried he's taking advantage of Derek. Scratch that - he  _knows_  he's taking advantage of Derek, and this isn't - this isn't right. "I'm sorry," he says miserably. "I should have - I noticed, I did, but I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have ordered you around."  
  
Derek makes a choked sound, and manages to say, "You've got it wrong, Scott. It's not that - yeah, you've been a dick, I get it, I deserve it, but I... need the orders, I need the structure, I need an  _alpha_  and - and not like you're thinking, no, I get that this is twisted and broken and screwed up, but -"  
  
"It's not. It's not screwed up. It's okay," Scott says immediately, and then a horrible thought occurs to him. "Do you... obey others? Does Peter - does anyone...?"  
  
Derek laughs, and it's a hollow, damaged sound. "Just you. Only ever you. You asshole."  
  
But... there's a fondness, in that last word. Weak, and barely there, but this - this could work. Maybe. If Scott played his cards right.  
  
"I want you - you're the Alpha. Can you pass that on to anyone?"  
  
Derek looks... resigned. "Only if you kill me." He pauses a moment, but before Scott can gather his thoughts, Derek whispers, "Please don't."  
  
"I'm not - Jesus, I'm not going to kill you," Scott mutters, but he feels guilty because - well, the thought was there, remembering all the times Derek's been a dick, all the times Derek's  _still_  a dick, and it'd be so much easier just to order Derek not to fight back. Instead, he clears his throat. "Okay. Well, you're going to consult with me, okay? We're going to work together because dude, you suck at this, you suck really, _really_ bad. And you can't listen to Peter anymore, alright? He's freaking crazy."  
  
Derek nods.  
  
"And - did you - like the kiss?" Scott asks, tentative and hopeful and with a rush of power that makes it difficult to hide his erection.  
  
(Not that he needs to; arousal has a smell, after all, and if Scott can smell it on himself for certain Derek can smell it too.)  
  
"It quieted things in my head," Derek whispers, staring at the ground, hands clenched tight at his sides.  
  
Scott can work with that.


End file.
